Pines Psychology 101
by ChibiTabatha
Summary: They didn't go back for one summer, Mabel falls into an old habit. Grunkle Ford finds out about it and feels it's time to use one of those PhD's for a good use. Mentions cutting and will probably touch on suicidal tendencies. Contains spoilers for Journal 3
1. Mabel

Hey guys! Gravity Falls time! I'm obseswith what makes the Pines tick. I'm no psychologist but I know a couple things about depression and anxiety. Which will definitely be touched on in this fic. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Gravity Falls belongs to Disney and Grunkle Stan/Soos (Alex Hirsch)

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Mabel missed Gravity Falls, she missed Grunkle Stan and Great-Uncle Ford, she missed Soos and Wendy, she missed Candy and Grenda, heck she even missed Pacifica. Mom and Dad thought the twins should stay in Piedmont for the following summer, but all they really wanted to do was go back. The adventures they could have had, the family bonding experiences they could have had in or out of jail! How could their parents not understand that?

High school was far more boring then she thought, and even with her braces now out she still couldn't land a boyfriend, or make any friends. She fell back into a habit she stopped during the summer they spent in Gravity Falls. Cutting. Faint white lines traced up her arms, some were even slightly pink, some even kind of a light purple. The fresh ones were covered, her first aid skills from taking care of Dipper's injuries for so long helped her take care of her's.

Even with the end of school on the horizon and all their things packed for the summer already, she still hadn't stopped. Exams were stressful and Dipper was still too busy with his studies. She cut a little too deep and she hissed. She wasn't trying to do anything that stupid, she just wanted to feel something other than the gaping loneliness in her heart. Dipper spent less time with her, buried in books, with no one else to distract her she became lonely and sad. Sure Waddles helped, but that was at home when he wasn't sleeping. Even her parents had work and had less time to talk to her about school, about her sweaters. She shook her head, she had to stem the bleeding and wrap up the wound. At least she still sported her knit sweaters, at least then Dipper and her folks wouldn't notice.

"How much of this stuff do you even need?" her twin's voice was filled with annoyance and confusion. "I know we're teens now, but you aren't having crazy acne like I am!" he waved at the large angry pimples on his face. A small bottle of concealer in his other hand. She had packed a lot, if she was going to be covering her arms all summer she would need every little jar of it.

Her laugh bubbled out, the pain in her forearm pushed back, "I told you I could help you with that Dip Dop." She pushed her finger against his nose, "Boop!" His skin was slightly oily, his sweating problem seemed to have only gotten slightly worse.

"Ugh," he flopped onto the floor of their shared room. The thump his head made caused her to wince.

"That's not where you sleep silly. Besides in three days we'll be back with our Grunkles! It'll be great! I'm sure Grunkles Ford will help with any and all of your sciencey questions!" her voice still sounded so bubbly, the kind of voice that sometimes made Dipper run his hand over his face.

"Yeah you're right. I hope it's at least a week before we go back to county jail for forgery," he laughed before crawling into his bed. His voice came out more relaxed, "Night Mabel."

She turned the lights off before crawling into her own bed, "Night Dipper."

The bus ride was just as long and boring as the first time. Only because Dipper was too absorbed in his own journal, the silver pine tree gleaming when the light hit it. He started up his own when they threw Ford's journals into the bottomless pit. His journal was blue with silver accents. She took to napping on the bus, Waddles curled against her side. Her arm itched but she couldn't touch it, if she scratched it could reopen and get infected. That'd be hard to explain to Dipper and Ford, but Stan would understand. He was the only one who understood.

She remembered the third day of their first visit to Gravity Falls, she was tired and warm. Dipper had already gone to bed so she felt it safe to take her sweater off. As she walked to the kitchen she ran into Grunkle Stan, who eyed her arms briefly. "Follow me kid." Her heart sank, she was going to get in trouble and everyone was going to find out about what she had been doing. Her Grunkle rummaged through some things in the bathroom before he let out a pleased grunt and handed her a small container. "Use this, it covers everything up nicely," she took it and stared at him wide-eyed, unsure. He huffed before turning on the faucet and scrubbing at his arms furiously, he turned to her and crouched down, a small grunt and wince indicating his knees were not happy with this. Holding out one of his arms out to her face up her eyes widened, faint lines traced up his arms similar to hers. Some were so faint she could barely see them. Small fingers traced them gently, "I won't tell anyone kid. I just want you to be able to go around without people staring at you if you ever have to take off your sweater." His voice was gruff, but the tone that carried through the gravel was caring and understanding.

Tears stung her eyes and she hugged him tightly around his neck, "Thank you, thank you so much Grunkle Stan!" Gruff laughter and a large hand ruffling her hair fondly signaled the end of that memory.

The bus pulled to a stop and they gathered their things and got off the bus. Only Grunkle Ford was there to greet them, his smile was warm, and she giggled at his still cracked len in his glasses. "Did you enjoy the trip kids?" his arms were folded behind his back, he still wore the turtleneck sweater and trench coat, despite the humid Oregon weather.

"I was dieing of boredom," she flopped against the older man, he chuckled at her antics, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Sorry Mabel, I was busy," Dipper scratched the back of his neck. He looked at the ground and kicked a rock seeming kind of glum.

"That's okay bro-bro, let's get to the Shack!" her smaller hand pulled on a six fingered hand grabbing her suitcase in the other hand.

As they walked to the Shack Ford was explaining that he and Stan were living back at the Shack; Melody, Soos and Abuelita had moved into their own place. Soos was still running the Shack when the twins were out, but Stan took over as Mr. Mystery when he was home.

The day was spent catching up with their Grunkles. Stan was excited to tell them about the time he punched a Kraken in the face. Ford was excited to hear about the kids school stories. Dipper was excited to show the Grunkles his new journal. She was just excited to talk to her family and spend time with them. As the day turned to night Dipper yawned. The two older men looked at each other and smiled, before looking at the younger twins suggesting they turn in for the night. Mabel and Dipper nodded before gathering themselves up and heading up into the familiar attic.

Mabel waited until she could hear the soft, even sound of her brother's breathing before she got out of bed. The dressing on her arm needed to be changed and she wanted a shower. Softly she moved through the house, pulling her sweater off slightly before opening the door to the bathroom. The site that greeted her eyes was something she would never have imagined. Ford was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet shirtless, bent over trying to clip his toenails. That wasn't what made the whole thing unimaginable, no, what did was the state of his body. The criss-cross of scars, the deep gouges, the chunks of his body that just seemed to no longer exist. "Close the door Mabel," his voice commanded her compliance even if it was softer than his normal commanding tone.

Wiggling an arm free of her sweater she closed the door behind her with a sigh. Panic sank in when his hand closed around her wrist, it was tight, not quite bruising, but if she struggled it would bruise beautifully. She whimpered as she was turned towards him, his eyes hard, brows furrowed as he looked over her arms. His lenses gleamed when his gaze shifted, covering the look in his eyes. Slowly the dressing on her forearm was removed and she hissed slightly as part of the scab went with it. "This isn't even a week old," his voice was quiet and dark. She tugged on her wrist slightly and his grip tightened, she winced. "Mabel..." his voice trailed off and she slumped in his grip.

"I-" her eyes darted up, "I did this." His jaw was a hard line, even the muscles in his shoulders were tense.

She could almost hear his teeth grinding, "I know."

"No one knows about this okay? Well..." her eyes slid to the side, if she told Ford that Stan knew he would get mad at Stan. They were getting along now too. A painful shift in his grip brought her back, "Ah! Grunkle Stan knows! He told me which concealers work best to cover it up." Her free hand flew to her mouth, she threw her Grunkle under the bus. The bones in her wrist ground together painfully, but all she did was bite her bottom lip. The movement cause the wound to weep slightly, a small trail of blood making its way out of the small holes in the scab. If he shifted the skin much more the whole scab might burst open.

"Stanley..." his voice was low, it made her shiver. She looked up at him again, behind the lenses of his glasses emotions swirled in his deep brown eyes. Without thinking about it, her hand reached out and touched a large scar running over his shoulder. The skin was rough and uneven under her fingers, but it made her shudder to think what had caused it. It was like electricity ran from her to him because he jolted at her soft touch. The grip on her wrist was released and he pulled her in for a hug. "You can always talk to us," his breath made her hair shift and she giggled turning to look at him.

"Even about this?" fingers grazed across the silly tattoo on his neck. The silly star was smiling at her and she really did feel like an all-star if she knew about this and Dipper didn't.

Ford cleared his throat slightly, "I would rather not, but if it would help you to open up to me, I would gladly." He sounded nervous, but it was a better sound than the rage that oozed through his body and voice.

"Stan only wanted me to be able to take my sweater off whenever I wanted, he was looking out for me. We never talked about why-," she paused for a moment, did Stan tell Ford about his old habits? She wouldn't throw him under the bus again, "-I was doing it. I don't think he knows how to help others the right way so he helped the only way he knew how."

Ford nodded against her shoulder, "In time I would like to hear about why, but I won't push you. I don't like seeing you hurt."

Her smile was big and goofy, "I never do it when I'm here. I don't need to." His arms went ridged around her. "I'll tell you Grunkle Ford, but I really want to shower, and cover up my arm," the man pulled away from her before nodding. "Uhm Grunkle Ford?" he looked at her through the neck of his maroon sweater, she had to giggle he looked hilarious. "Thanks, I love you."

He smiled down at her, "Anytime at all Mabel. I love you too. I'll be in my study, when you're done why don't you let a doctor look at that huh?"

She giggled, "Okay Doctor Ford." She laughed at the way it sounded and the door shut behind him leaving her to do her own thing.

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Well let's leave it there for now. Let me know what you think about it! R&R!


	2. Ford

Hey again guys! This one is from Ford's perspective, I feel like I kight end up cycling through the characters. I'm not a 100% sure where this story is going. It's just sorta being made up as I go along. So let's keep this train rolling.

Gravity Falls belongs to Disney and Alex Hirsch.

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The pen stopped mid-word, soft footsteps approached the door to his study. His brother had aheavy gait, and Dipper's tread wasn't exactly stealthy. Mabel's was quiet and if he hadn't been expecting the girl she would have spooked him. The thing about Mabel he remembered was that she was quiet when others were sleeping, during the day she might even out loud Stanley. Often he would come up from the basement to the girl in the kitchen and his heart would hammer in his chest and his hand would reflexively rest on his laser gun. She would just beam at him, offer him some "Mabel Juice" and quietly head upstairs when she was done her glass of water. That's how she snuck up on him in the bathroom. He was certain everyone was asleep, but when the door creaked open and he looked up at her soft brown eyes he knew he would have to talk to her.

The knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. The door creaked open slightly and the girl looked at him with those impossibly soft, brown eyes. He feared his heart stopped when he glanced at her injured wrist and saw the skin already turning a dark purple. He did that, without thinking he had caused his great niece harm. Her soft smile tried to reassure him that she was fine, but that couldn't ease his guilt.

Even as she approached him he felt overwhelmed by guilt. If he had just thought through things clearly he would have held onto her gently, he wouldn't have let his anger seep into his actions, he wouldn't have felt the bones underneath slowly protest his grip. If he had just stopped and thought about it, he wouldn't have hurt his niece.

Small arms encircled his neck bringing him slowly out of his thoughts. Her shoulders were shaking, and slowly his shoulder seemed to be getting slightly damp. He froze, what was he supposed to do? Being socially inept was rather crippling when it came to his niece and to his own brother. He tried to think of what Stanley would do. Probably hold her at arm's length and tell her she would have to pay to get his suit fixed if she wrecked it. The shaking worsened, panicking he wrapped his arms around her and rested a hand on the back of her head and a hand on her back.

She cried it out, soft whimpers and shuddery breaths the only sounds she made. Slowly she calmed, "Please don't blame yourself Grunkle Ford," she finally manged to get out.

He was floored, this small child, teen Stanford, she's a teen now, saw right through him. He couldn't think of a reason why she would be indulging in self-harm, but she saw through to his guilt. A frown slid across his face, "Mabel, I'm not sure what you're talking about." He knew his pride was talking now, and poor Mabel didn't deserve or need his weird awkward mood swings right now. She needed medical attention, "If you're feeling better now I would like to see your arm."

Soft brown eyes stared into his, and he had to avert his gaze. Those eyes seemed to see through him better than Stanley could see through his lies. She shifted in his lap and held out her abused arm, "Should I talk while you work?"

Again this girl was surprising him, he didn't expect her to talk about anything. He nodded stiffly before grabbing the doctor's bag by his desk and setting to work disinfecting the wound. "Start from the beginning," he gruffly mumbled, reminding himself she was still young and he could help her.

"I think it started when I was ten," she hissed at the disinfectant on the open parts of her wound, he just clenched his jaw. What kind of parents never noticed their daughter cutting for four years? He let her voice draw him back in, "The teachers insisted that Dipper was so smart, that he should push himself to get the best grades, even our parents pushed for it. So he strived to get those marks and he did. I was the most proud of him. Even if it ment I was alone." That couldn't be right, Mabel was always surrounded by those that love her. "I'm lucky I have Candy and Grenda here, but back home in Piedmont, I only have Dipper. So when he buries himself in school work, I'm left by myself."

The bandage was already wrapped around the wound and he was studying her wrist for signs of breakage, "Why don't you just make friends with the other girls at school?" Schools had to have changed a lot since he was there. There should be no Crampelter-like people in this Era hopefully.

"It's not easy Grunkle Ford, girls are expected to act like people they aren't. My kind isn't allowed in their special ring of friendship," her voice sank like a rock. "The reason I cut is so I can feel something else other than crippling loneliness. I'm not trying to get attention or take my life, I just want to feel. I know it sounds dumb," her small fists clenched, "I just want to feel grounded in this world, in this reality I find myself in."

He felt the muscle in his jaw twitch, even surrounded by people someone could feel that lonely. Even when he was jumping and running through dimensions he didn't have time to feel that crippling loneliness, he was too busy trying to stop Bill. Trying to fix his own mistakes. This teen was struggling and dealing with it in the only way she could think of. It may not have been the best solution but for her it was something.

Mable's small hands gently took off his glasses. His vision swam in blurred blobs, "Sometimes you need a new perpective on things Grunkle Ford."

He snatched his glasses back with a scowl, "You think I don't know that Mable?" His voice was much sharper than he intended, he watched the girl flinch slightly.

"I'm sorry, I was only trying to help," the defeat in her voice made him regret his attitude towards her. His damn hubris was getting in the way again.

Clutching the girl against his chest he sighed. Chocolate brown hair danced in its wake. "I'm sorry Mabel, I know you're trying to help me, but I don't need it. You need help. Cutting is not okay, no matter the reason. Every time you open up a wound like that it could lead to infection. Even if you aren't trying to kill yourself, you could still end up dieing. Think about how Dipper would feel, how Stanley and I would feel. It's not pleasant is it?"

Her small form went stiff underneath his hold, before a soft nod was felt. "I understand Great Uncle Ford," her voice was clipped and quiet.

He swore to himself, he just fucked up badly, "Mabel I want to help you find a solution that doesn't endanger you. I care about you and I-"

He was abruptly cut off by furious eyes staring holes into his, "We care about you too! But you won't let anyone help you! Great Uncle Ford is soooooo smart, he doesn't need the help of his family! His twelve PhD's will help him instead!" She roughly hit the floor after pushing hard against his chest.

He caught her good wrist this time and wrapped his other arm around her before she could escape out the door of his study. "I'm sorry Mabel. It's hard to explain..."

"Explain what? You open your mouth and words come out. We're family, I'll understand eventually. Or am I too stupid to even be able to do that much?" her voice was bitter.

A frown tugged at his lips before he pulled her closer against his body, "No Mabel, you aren't stupid. I'm just-" he paused a moment, "-prideful and stubborn."

"Hubris."

Eyes wide he looked at the back of his niece's head, "What was that?"

"It's called hubris, I learned about it at the library. Too confident in yourself, and overly prideful. I looked it up," her voice was strained, like she knew he knew what she said. That maybe he just couldn't believe she knew such a word.

"Why would you look up such a thing?" he pulled her up into his embrace. Despite being so close to her, she refused to look at him.

"Grunkle Stan and I wrote to each other. He said you were being pig headed and stubborn. He wanted to know if there was a word he could use to let you know when you were being too much. So I looked it up," her elbows dug into his chest, her arms crossed across her chest, forehead in the crook of his neck.

"You never told me about this in your letters. You only ever told me about your art projects or your sweaters," again his brow furrowed, did she favor Stanley over him? Even though he and his twin loved the younger twins equally?

"Dipper does all his own research, why can't I do my own research?" the bitterness in her voice was heartbreaking. Yes she had a point, she was her own person, but she could also rely on him sometimes couldn't she? Stanley received a going away sweater and he had not. Sure she made his very comfortable maroon sweater he wore all the time, but it wasn't one of her signature sweaters.

"I'm not saying you can't. I just wish you would rely on me as much as you rely on Stanley. After all, if it wasn't for your trust in him I wouldn't be here," his words were soft, and it seemed to melt the girl's hard pose. Her arms shifted to wrap around his neck, and he welcomed the warmth she shared with him in that moment.

"I don't favor Grunkle Stan over you, I just don't know how to talk to you. You're so smart and I'm so... me," her voice began to sound thick again. He knew that in that small pause she switched the word stupid for something else. She was struggling with his social awkwardnes, and it was eating at her in a way he might not ever understand.

"Then why don't you and I spend all day together tomorrow. We'll do some of the things you like to do, and then things I like to do. We can try to fix this. I want us to be able to talk," he gently rocked the girl in his arms. Her soft nod was enough to make his heart soar. "Maybe I'll tell you about some if my cooler scars," sparkling brown eyes locked onto his, her bright energetic smile went from ear to ear.

"Thanks Grunkle Ford! I can't wait! Can we start now?" he paused baffled. What on earth would she want to do at quarter to elven at night?

He felt his eyebrows lift, "What on earth could we do now?"

"Fall asleep watching movies or documentaries," her eyes sparkled. She even said documentaries, meaning he would get to chose what they watched if he agreed to her simple request.

"You can't complain if I pick something boring," he laughed, it felt like a weight was lifted off his chest.

"Well I have to put my pajamas on first, but you can pick what ever you want. I like to watch animal documentaries sometimes. Don't tell Dipper, he thinks he's the only one who can enjoy 'smart people' stuff," she air quoted and giggled.

He set her down and ruffled her soft hair, "Alright, I'll meet you in the den." A vigorous nod was followed by her rolling forward on her feet to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Mabel."

Instead of the you're welcome he was expecting he was floored once again by the simple, "I love you too Grunkle Ford."

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Well that's it for now guys. Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!


	3. Dipper

Finished typing this up on a plane! Tadah! I'm tired and I don't even know.

Gravity Falls belongs to Alex Hirsch.

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Something wasn't right. Panic slowly wrapped itself around his heart like a vice, but he wasn't sure why. The birds were chirping, the light filtering through the trees and window was still soft, Waddles was curled up next to him. Wait. Waddles sleeps with his sister, so why is he here? He rolled over and blinked his eyes a few times to try and focus on the bed across from him. The panic then squeezed his heart for all it was worth, her bed was empty. Mabel wasn't there.

He bolted out of his bed and checked over her bed without touching anything, the covers were thrown aside and her clothes from the previous day were at the end of the bed. She usually changed after he fell asleep so that much was normal, but where was Mabel? Her covers were thrown aside but the bed didn't look awfully messy. Did the gnomes take her? Did something else take her? Could Bill have somehow come back to life? Did he take his sister?

He could feel his breath shortening, his heart hammering in his chest painfully. Telling himself to breathe was harder then usual, it was like a weight was crushing his chest and wouldn't let up. It wasn't impossible that she woke up before him and went to get breakfast, right? He was the one who started yawning first so maybe he had just been more tired. Yeah that's it, right?

Dipper took the stairs two at a time, running full tilt into the small kitchen. Stan was at the stove with a mug of coffee grumbling to himself, but he was the only one in the kitchen. What little hope he had died in him just then. Some sort of noise must have escaped his throat because Stan turned to look at him before grimacing, "Yeesh kid, what's the matter? That sounded like a seal's dieing breath." The man pushed his glasses up and raised a brow waiting for his reply.

Small breaths Dipper, Stan would know where Mabel is, ask him. Instead of his mouth opening to ask his Grunkle where his sister was, he slipped trying to move away from the door. Panic was beginning to rise faster now, curling tighter around his heart. His sister had always been there in the same room as him when he woke for the past forever. Even if she hadnt been right there she was in the bathroom, or in the kitchen. All of a sudden she's gone and he doesn't know what to do. He immediately regretted the distance between them lately, even though she always smiled at him from her homework or knitting, telling him it was okay and she was proud to be his twin when he was doing so well in school, that he was super smart.

Socked feet skidded into the den where relief hit like a tidal wave. There she was. She was safe. That was all that-

His feelings sunk like a rock. Looking over his twin sprawled in Ford's lap he saw her one arm, a large dark bruise around her wrist and just above it there was gauze wrapped around her arm as well. When she shifted slightly the sleeve fell and blocked the view of her injuries, her form curling into Ford's body for warmth. A thud echoed through his ears, but he wasn't sure where the sound had come from. Whatever it was made Ford rouse from his slumber. The older man opened his eyes and looked around lost for a moment before realizing the weight in his lap. Shoving his glasses back up his nose he finally noticed Dipper too, but concern instantly bled into the man's features. "Something the matter my boy?" his voice was still hushed as to not disturb Mabel, one of his arms curling around her to keep her from tumbling onto the floor.

He realized then what the thump had been, he had hit the floor. He stood on shaky knees and shook his head vigorously side to side. "Stan is probably making Stancakes, thought I would let you know," he could tell that Great Uncle Ford saw right through his lie, but Dipper slid out of the room before the man could question him.

He sat at the table and a plate was unceremoniously dropped in front of him, "Not sure what those two were up to last night. Other than wasting my money and electricity watching documentaries and other nonsense. I oughtta sock Sixer for that one later." Following the Stancakes was Mounty Man maple syrup, and a glass of orange juice, he took the glass with a shaky hand and took a sip.

"Our electricity Stanley," the unimpressed voice made Dipper sink in his chair. Hunger forgotten, he used his fork to poke the food on his plate.

"YAY!" Mabel flung herself into the seat across from him and smiled at him. Her smile was contagious, as he felt his panic and fear slowly melt away, "I missed Stancakes!" Her own plate of Stancakes was placed in front of her as well as milk and Sir Syrup table syrup. Making quick work of the syrup cap she drowned the breakfast in syrup, taking a big gulp of milk she also rubbed the milk mustache off her face with the back of her sleeve.

"How? They look terrifying, like the hot-air balloon he thought was a smart idea," he relaxed and smiled at his sister smugly while she just shrugged and shoveled food into her mouth. The Stans argued quietly over coffee to the side about electricity for a bit before Ford shot Stan a withering glare and muttered something too quiet for him to hear.

"All done! Hey Grunkle Ford, want to have some Mabel Juice? I'll even let you study it if you want," Dipper's heart skipped several beats before picking up the pace. When did they get that close? They weren't were they? He normally spent time with Great Uncle Ford.

"Ah, I'll pass for now dear, I need to talk to my brother here for a moment. Excuse us," you would have had to be blind to not see the white-knuckled grip he had on Stan's arm as he led them both out of the kitchen. The younger twins stared at each other perplexed until they heard the muffled sound of raised voices from further in the house.

He almost missed the guilt that slipped into his sister's features. "Hey what's up?" he couldn't stop himself before the words came out. Talking without making some kind of plan first was madness, especially when dealing with his sister. He tried to seem casual by pouring syrup onto his own breakfast and taking a small bite.

"I feel like it's my fault they're arguing. I was the one who suggested Grunkle Ford and I watch movies. We both couldn't sleep, it happens," she shrugged glumly.

The words didn't seem right, but they didn't seem like a full blown lie either. Finishing another couple mouthfuls he nodded slightly, "I'm sure they'll come to an understanding, they did spend almost a year trapped on a small boat." A reassuring smile rested on his lips, trying to ease his sister's mood. Her face relaxed into her trademark grin and he felt much better. "I am wondering about your arm though, what happened?" the words fell out if his mouth before he could stop them. Mabel went stiff, freezing in place before she gently touched her injured arm.

"It's nothing Dipping Sauce, just an injury from one of my crafts," that was a very bold lie.

"It's didn't happen at school did it? Did one of the girls bully you again? You really should talk to a teacher about it," he watched his sister for a reaction. She didn't look at him, holding her sleeve tightly in one balled fist.

A firm hand fell on his shoulder, "Leave the girl be, she's clearly still upset. She'll talk to you in time." Ford's voice made him flinch, something seemed off in his voice and he wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't like it. "I already looked at the injuries, it's nothing serious," his great uncle's hand was awfully stiff, but he chalked it up to having slept on a chair all night with Mabel in his lap.

"Alright thanks Great Uncle Ford. I'm glad you took care of Mabel last night," he smiled up at the older man, but he couldn't see past the glare in his lenses.

"Alright well, come along Mabel," Ford held his hand out and Mabel slipped out of her chair and put her hand gently in the six-fingered hand. He ushered his twin out of the kitchen and all Dipper was left with was silence. It ate at him. Ford and Mabel were keeping something from him.

Slowly his thoughts turned inward, was it because he wasn't good enough? He was trying but it never seemed to be good enough for anyone. They always told him he could do better, even though he felt he was doing his best. Now because of this Mabel was hurt and she never told him, he was too busy trying to jam as much knowledge into his brain. What if Mabel never told him anything else ever again?

He found himself curled under the table, breathing coming out fast and shallow. A groan filled his ears, his eyes trained on his knees as he rocked slightly. "Kid," the voice was gruff. "Kid," he was poked with what felt like a stick. "Dipper I can't stay on my knees like this all day. C'mmon," he didn't budge, it was calming under the table.

The table moved and fear wrapped itself around him. Large arms cradled him gently, "Kid, it's okay. Breathe." Wet streaks made their way down his face, he pressed his hands into his face firmly. His breathing wouldn't even and it felt like now that the tears had started, they would never end. Large hands rubbed his back and rocked him, saying absolutely nothing.

"Stan," he pressed his hands harder against his face, "I'm scared." He felt so small, so weak. All he wanted to do was be there for his sister, but now maybe they couldn't be as close because he messed up.

"It's okay kid. It happens to all of us," Stan's gravely voice was soft, his hand never stopping on his back. "I know exactly what it's like to be scared. I'm scared of all sorts of things. The scariest aren't even the monsters I got to punch with Sixer, the scariest monsters are in yer head kid," Dipper could only nodded stiffly. "C'mere," both of Stan's burly arms wrapped around him snugly and he pressed his face into the fabric of Stan's suit jacket.

He still felt miserable, and he still felt scared. "I don't want to feel like this Grunkle Stan. It's awful," his breaths came out in shudders, the tears beginning to slow. "I don't even know why I feel like this," it wasn't a whole lie, but it wasn't the whole truth.

If Stan knew, he didn't say anything about it, "It is awful, but you have us to talk to. When it gets too much just reach out and we'll come help." He shook his head. "Seriously Dipper, even if you don't want to talk about it, we can talk about what's eating at us. Why don't you go clean up and meet me in my office. I can tell you about me, how's that sound kid? Besides looks like Mabel and Sixer are doing god knows what. Let's spend some quality time together, just you and me. Soos can run the Shack," he could feel the deep voice rumble through the man's chest under his hands. This time he nodded his head softly.

"Thanks Grunkle Stan," he smiled weakly as he was set on the ground.

"No problem ki-" Stan stopped and grimaced, "Yeesh kid, go wash your face before you track snot through the house." He dusted off his shoulders, when his hand pulled away from the damp shoulder he stuck his tongue out and gagged slightly.

Dipper smiled a little wider than before, "'Kay." Leaving the kitchen behind he moved towards the bathroom to go see how bad his face looked. The image in the mirror was a mess. Red blotches and tear tracks were on his cheeks. The worst part was snot smeared under his nose and on one side of his face from rubbing his face against Stan's shoulder. Stan was right, he did need to wash his face. He laughed quietly turning on the tap.

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Welp I hoped you like it. Stan and depreciation is next up. Let's see if I can stay awake on my flight this time. As always, R&R. Love you guys!


	4. Stan

Hey all! I was too busy collecting freckles from the sun and being a strange Canadian tourist in Colorado, so sorry for this wait! It's Stan time! I would offer you Stanbucks but I'm too cheep to do that. Anyways there is some mention of prostitution in here. None of the important deets yet. That's for later. I have a feeling the chapters may hover around the same word mark or expand. Not sure yet. We'll see.

As always I own nothing, Alex Hirsch is my lord and master.

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He knew something was wrong with the kids, Mabel and his brother were on the chair passed out watching some weird film about penguins narrated by some British dude. The way Dipper tore through the house looking for her was painful to watch. She probably ran into Ford in the bathroom last night, if that dark bruise on her wrist was any indication, too large to be anyone but his brother's. Having six fingers wasn't always the greatest. Dipper's eyes had been wild and afraid, like he was just on the edge of losing it.

Ford had pulled him aside to talk, saying it was about Mabel. Once they were in Stan's office his older twin whirled on him, "When we're you going to tell me about Mabel's condition Stanley?" His eyes were hard and cold, his mouth a thin line.

"What are you talking about Sixer?" he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee.

"The cutting Stanley! The cutting!" Ford's voice rose but wasn't quite at a full on shout yet.

"What was there to say? You think telling that little ball of sunshine cutting is bad is going to stop her?" he glared at his brother over the mug.

"We can try to help her you idiot!" Ford was now yelling. Luckily they were far enough away the kids wouldn't be able to hear.

"You think I haven't been? I spend time with her when Dipper is doing guy things with Soos or nerd things with you. I make sure the girl always has yarn to make the sweaters she's always knitting. If your version of helping her is that dark bruise around her wrist then so help me god I will beat the shit out of you," he was livid, his voice also raising into a shout.

Ford looked wounded, his shoulders slumped, "I didn't mean for that to happen." He squared his shoulders once more, "It wouldn't have if you had told me what was going on Stanley!"

"I promised the kid I wouldn't tell anyone, that it'd be our secret. The girl is terrified of what would happen if her parents found out or what Dipper would do if he found out. Hell the kid almost had a meltdown looking for his sister," Stan wasn't going to back down. He may be a lowlife but those kids mean the world to him, he wouldn't break a promise if he could keep it. They deserved that much from him.

"I think Dipper saw the bandages on her arm. I need to go get her," Ford tried to brush past him but he grabbed the back of his coat. "Stanley, let go. If Dipper questions her it might cause unneeded stress," he glared right back at his brother.

"You spending the day with her or something?" his voice was quiet now, the fight all gone.

"Yes," his reply was also soft.

"I'll look after the kid then," he moved to go put his suit on.

"What do you mean?" Ford stopped with his hand on the door.

Stan pulled the shirt on over his undershirt and began to button it, "After you take Mabel the kid's going to have a small breakdown." Without pausing he began putting the pants on and tucking the shirt into them, "Kid was ripping through the house in a panic looking for her. He loves Mabel and needs her, especially with how much distance has been between them lately."

Ford scowled and made his way out of the room without another word. Mabel told him a little bit about it then, not surprising. She wasn't depressed in what most people would call the normal way, but that was okay too. Ford would just have to realize that on his own. Making his way fully dressed to the kitchen he walked past his brother waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Mabel. They said nothing to each other as they passed. They were both bull-headed and it would take a while to deal with this, but it was manageable.

The kitchen was empty, at least that's what he thought till he realized Dipper was jammed under the table. After digging him out and sending him off to clean himself up, Stan decided he was going to need a new jacket. Luckily where the jackets were was where he told the kid to meet him. After swapping out his snot coated jacket for something cleaner from his closet, he quickly moved to his desk and rummaged through the drawers. Quickly grabbing his familiar leather gloves he tucked them into his pocket as a soft knock sounded on the door. The door swung open with a creak, Dipper's free hand on the knobb, the other jammed in his pocket. "Good, wasn't sure you were actually going to come kid," his rough voice ending in a small chuckle.

"What were you going to talk to me about it?" Dipper jammed his other hand into his pocket and scuffed his shoe on the floor.

"Go grab some of your sister's bobby pins, I'm going to teach you how to pick locks first," he rubbed his hand across his stubble covered chin. The look on Dipper's face was priceless, "She won't miss a few. I always take a couple when I'm about to," a small pause, "go on an excursion."

"Isn't lock picking illegal?" his nephew crossed his arms and gave him a look that reminded him a lot of his own brother, the look of, Stan you could do so much better than this.

"Yes but only if you get caught. Plus you can use it if your sister takes something of yours and locks it away," Mabel was known to do some pretty crazy things. Locking something of Dipper's away didn't seem so unlikely. The look shifted on the boy's face and he nodded before scampering off.

Rooting through his desk he pulled out some bobby pins he swiped from the girl last time she was here, he would need a few of his own, Dipper might only grab two, or he might grab more, better safe than sorry in his opinion. He also pulled out a couple different locks. Small huff of breaths came from his door again and he turned to see the kid with a handful of Mabel's bobby pins.

"Good work kid," Stan affectionately pushed down the kid's baseball hat. Dipper pushed the rim back up and followed after him with a smile.

The two headed outside and sat on the couch on the porch. As Stan talked about how to reshape the bobby pin, no you can't use it as is, the movies and cartoons weren't going to show you that kind of information, and how to slide it to push on the pins and turn the lock itself, Dipper listened intently. Stan did do a demonstration of course, the kid had to see how a pro did it. After popping and locking a few of the locks Dipper began to fumble with the pins trying to reshape them like Stan had. Stan felt proud, Dipper was willing to learn something from him and he felt like a million bucks. It was short lived, "Grunkle Stan, why do you wear leather gloves? They're your locks." It's true, out of habit he pulled on the familiar gloves just before getting to his lesson.

A sigh escaped him, "You remember how when Sixer came out of the portal? He was always carrying a gun around, it was habit. Some habits are ingrained over time." He paused looking at the kid, he was still struggling with the bobby pin but he finally got the shape right, he beamed up at Stan and he smiled back. "I had to do a lot of things I'm not proud of, part of that is the reason behind this particular habit," Dipper had stopped trying to turn the lock to look at him.

A small hand pressed against his arm, "We didn't watch all of it, but are you talking about when the news covered all the crimes you had committed and it took hours?"

"That was just stuff I had done in Ford's name. A lot of that stuff was done by Stanley Pines too. Some worse. I had it rough kid. I had to do what I had to survive," he stared at the leather covered digits as they slowly began to clench. "I haven't even told him half the things I had to do. I did try to be a salesman for a while, but the products were cheap, and I was only losing money. If you need cash fast, moral and legal lines tend to blur or be broken," the small hand slowly clenched in his jacket.

"You didn't..." the kid's voice trailed off and something seemed soul crushing about the way his voice faded.

"I did everything kid. You shouldn't be proud of this old man," his voice came out gruffer than he expected, and part of his heart ached.

"I won't tell anyone," the kid looked much too old in that moment. Like he wasn't fourteen going on fifteen, like he was much much older.

"Tell anyone what kid? I'm sure as hell not giving you the details. There's no way you're old enough for that kind of information," a small bark of laughter escaped him.

"Grunkle Stan, I'm young not dumb. The best kinds of illegal jobs are prostitution and murder. I honestly don't think you could kill a man. You're rough around the edges sure, but you aren't cruel," Dipper shot him a withering glare.

Stan felt his heart sink like a rock, how on God's green Earth would the kid know something like that. "Of course I'm not going to ask you about it, even if I did, you wouldn't want to talk to me about it, and I don't think I would want to hear the details," the kid went back to wiggling the pins into place in the lock.

"It-" he stopped himself, dare he speak of it, dare he dredge up parts of his past he tried to forget, the past he tried to burn in a faked fiery death? He would, "-was humiliating. Having to sink to that level. I had to prove my worth to be able to move up. Unless you have an in you got to start at the bottom. First was prostitution, then acting as their mule, eventually enough time passes and they finally let me deal. I was also robbing places on the side." The familiar sound of a lock popping was finally heard, "Again, faster this time."

A soft nod was all he got, after he popped the lock slightly faster he switched the lock in the kid's hand for another. "Why didn't you call Great Uncle Ford for help? He might have taken you in if you had explained..." the kid was soft spoken, like even he wasn't sure his words rang true.

"I tried to call a few times. I would either hang up before he picked up, or I hung up after his greeting. I couldn't talk to him. I still thought he hated me," a sigh escaped his mouth as he watched the kid work on the locks.

"I'm scared Mabel is going to leave me," Stan's head whipped to the side a little too fast, his neck cracking in protest. He winced, "She's been quieter lately. She still attacks me with glitter and tries to make everything sparkly and happy, but she talks to me less. It's scary. I know how she felt when she thought I was going to take Ford's apprenticeship."

Small hands clenched and unclenched around the lock in his lap. "Your sister loves you. I'm sure it's just the stress of high school. You're smart, like your uncle, but maybe that's what's got her down. I know I used to compare myself to Ford and I felt like such a waste of space," the kid looked up at him with misty eyes.

"But she's amazing and bright and she always makes us laugh. I always feel like I'm the worse twin, that she's going to leave me behind while I'm buried up to my ears in books. I just want things to be normal, us to be normal," the kid began to chew on his lip.

"How about this, after diner today I'll figure out a way to get Sixer out of the shack, and you and Mabel have movie night?" he rested one of his large hands on the boy's shoulder.

"Do you think she would want to? She has Ford for that now..." the kid was so glum that Stan wanted to go in there and punch his brother right in his smart-ass mouth.

"Of course, your sister loves watching movies with everyone. Heck even make a pillow fort and eat popcorn, she'd love it," a confident grin slid across his face.

Dipper sniffles and ran the back of his hand under his nose, "Thanks Grunkle Stan."

"Anytime kid, now if you don't hurry up with these locks, you'll never be able to get anything back from your sister."

* * *

So Stan time is over. But instead of cycling back to Mabel, I might go Ford then Mabel. Who knows. Anyways, let me know what you guys think! I have to power nap for my flight in like 3 hours. Fun times! Love you guys!


	5. Art-Time

Hey guys! I'm sorry for the wait. I had lots of stuff going on and my laptop died. So I sorta have to do everything on my phone for now. Unless I can borrow a laptop from time to time. Then it'll go much smoother. I might have another GF fic brewing in my head but I'm not sure about it. It's... different. But we'll see. Hopefully I can start releasing regularly. I'm just a jerk though. Got plenty of people who will harass me if I don't though. But anyways. Here's what you've been waiting for! Yay!

Also a shout out to LittleAmberAmethyst, movie time will more than likely be a thing. Or at least mentioned in the next chapter. But you'll have to wait and see. And thank you for both your reviews.

I own nothing! Alex Hirsch owns everything!

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He was unaware of how much glitter Mabel could hide on her person. The sheer amount was mind blowing, it was like she had a small pocket dimension in her sweater. Bag upon bag was pulled out and Ford thought that maybe Stan had taught the girl about the five-finger-discount, but Mabel didn't seem the type to do that. Once all the art supplies were on the table, his grand niece looked up at him with big round eyes. He cleared his throat, "What would you like to start with?"

"Well I'm not allowed to use the heat gun without adult supervision, so I'll need your help!" large brown eyes sparkled in the light. A heat gun, she needed a heat gun? "It's in the gift shop! Grunkle Stan says I can't keep it in the main house. He's scared I might burn down the house," a bright wide grin was turned in his direction.

A sigh slipped past his lips, "Alright I suppose I'll go get the heat gun, but I agree with my brother on this. I'll be using it for whatever you need." A vigorous nod was the response he received from the young girl. He turned on his heel, exiting the kitchen, his mind whirling, why did they even own a heat gun? Did Stanley buy it for the girl for her art projects? Did they already own it for the sake of the Shack, to help seal the taxidermy parts together? Was it part of Soos' tools for keeping the shack in working order? There were endless possibilities, but he was snapped out of his train of thought when he walked into the gift shop.

"Hey Dr. P. what's up?" the red headed teen glanced up from her magazine for a moment before dipping her head back down. Her boots were up on the counter and she was tilted back on her chair, the angle making a look of concern flit across his face before it returned to its neutral look.

"I'm looking for the heat gun. With the tools, yes?" his movement was fluid across the shop towards the tool box.

Wendy watched him as he looked through the toolbox, "Naw man, it's here." The chair hit the floorboards with a scrape, sliding across the floor as she pushed back from the counter. From under the counter she pulled out the desired tool and held it out to him. "Careful, the ink will stain your clothes man."

"Ink?" now he was more confused.

"You'll see man," she shot him a smug grin when he took the tool from her.

He shrugged and returned to the main house through the staff only door. Once he returned to the kitchen his jaw dropped slightly. Jars of ink, pencils, markers, crayons, pencil crayons, paints and brushes littered the table, floor, and two of the chairs. "Grunkle Ford! You found it!" small arms wrapped around his free hand and dragged him further into the kitchen.

"Mabel my dear, what is all this?" completely baffled he glanced at all the supplies.

"Well you have some really good drawing skills, and I enjoy colouring! So could you maybe draw me some mythical creatures and I can colour them?" big soft brown eyes blinked up at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips, "Of course my dear, anything in particular you'd like?" He sat at the table and his niece sat beside him.

"MERMAIDS!" her hands slammed against the table.

This made laughter bubble out of his throat, "Of course my dear. But what will you do while I draw?"

She pulled out her knitting needles, "Knit my daily sweater of course!"

With a small nod he picked up a pencil and pulled out a slip of paper from the mass of supplies. The pencil danced across the paper to the sound of soft clicking. The image of a siren sitting on a rock surrounded by waves slowly spread across the page, her hair spilt in waves over her shoulders, the tail dipping beneath the waves. Once he was sure the image would suffice, he slid the image to his niece. "OH MY GOODNESS!" her pitch escalated and her knitting hit the ground. "It's perfect! I'll get started right away!"

A thick tipped black marker was pulled from the mountain of supplies, she slowly began to trace and darken the line work he just finished. He already had another sheet of paper and began working on the next image, an ice apparition he and Stanley ran into in the arctic. Occasionally he would glance up, a brush was in her hand, inks being brushed across the paper, colour flowing from her mind and onto the paper. He was amazed that she was so good at using the inks and brushes, using just the right amount of water to blend colours. Her art would take her far if she'd let it. As the inks dried he slipped the next image to her, her smile the only approval he needed to continue. This time she used pencil crayons, the soft blues and whites making the image feel warm even though the colours themselves were cold. Instead of starting the next image he just watched her work. She used a blue marker for the lines, and as she coloured in the face and hair of the apparition, he realized that even though he drew the image from memory the colours were all from her imagination. Her wonderful, weird imagination, that no amount of observation would ever be able to help him comprehend it.

Suddenly he remembered why he was spending time with the young girl, but she showed no signs of being sad. Hell the girl seemed as bubbly as normal, perhaps he should speak to her parents about her maybe moving here to live with him and Stanley, maybe that would help. It couldn't hurt to ask and try it out, Stanley would gladly take in both the kids, especially if it would help out their beloved Mabel.

"Living here would be nice Grunkle Ford, but it'd also be worse. The town is small and if Wendy is having trouble with the kids in high school, I'll be eaten alive," she had moved back to the siren image, checking to see in the inks were dry.

"How…?" he felt the frames of his glasses slid down his nose.

"Grunkle Stan said you think pretty loudly. I get what he was saying. It's like all the gears are screeching loudly. Plus I can see it on your face," her one shoulder shifted up in shrug.

He leaned heavily against his hand, she was far more observant then he was at the moment and that was slightly upsetting. "I just want to figure out how to help you my dear," he sighed.

"Then get the heat gun ready," Mabel had another brush in hand, a jar with opaque goop inside it in the other. He blinked at her, she completely ignored what he actually meant, and pulled him into her pace. He watched as she slowly spread the opaque goo onto parts of the siren image, she sprinkled glitter on top and he understood. It was a paste she was using that dried clear, an embossing technique. He plugged in the heat gun and waited for her to slide the paper to him. Once the image was in front of him he pointed the end of the heat gun towards the glitter and watched as it bonded to the paper. It was all so fascinating.

"Where did you learn this?" he glanced up to his niece who was smiling at him and swinging her legs under her chair.

"Craft book Stan got me for Christmas last year. I sell art online and at fairs. Dipdop draws and I colour, we split the profits," she shrugged. "Lots of people like the mermaids and unicorns and princesses, for a boy he can draw some pretty girly things. You're both really good at drawing," she smiled up at him her eyes shining in the light.

"I wouldn't sell yourself short Mabel. I remember the few drawings you left in the journal, I'm sure if you spent more time working and perfecting your techniques you wouldn't need Dipper to help you at all," he turned the gun off and tilted the paper, all the loose glitter sliding off.

"Yeah but if I did that he wouldn't have more money to buy pens to chew on, dork," she giggled slightly and took the picture from Ford to inspect it. "Perfect, I'll have to get a frame for it. Think Grunkle Stan will let me hang it in the living room?"

"I'm sure we could persuade him, if not I would love to have either piece in my study," he reached out a hand and ruffled her hair.

"Well I was planning on giving you the second one, I don't think I want to emboss it though. It looks nice like this," she held it up and he had to agree. Her use of crosshatching to shade the apparition and background was superb, on par with the technique he usually used.

"I would be more than happy with this one. Your art is really developing. I wouldn't be surprised if you became famous for it one day," he smiled at her.

Her soft shrug made him pause a moment, if she didn't want to go into art he shouldn't make her feel pressured. "I'm still not sure what I want to do. Dipper seems to be determined to actually get his own ghost hunting show," she smiled slightly and leaned on her hands. "Although I think he should check out the Corduroy's if he does. That place seemed crazy haunted when I looked through the journals before we tossed them," she giggled and swung her legs again.

"Yes that would be a good location. Although I wouldn't recommend it, even if he has dealt with a 'Category 11'" he air quoted, "that cabin is still nightmare fuel."

"True enough," she pushed back from the table. "What do you want to do for lunch? I figure I can clean up, and you can get lunch. Afterwards we can do science stuff, or what ever it is you want to do!" she smiled up at him.

"Hmm, how about I grab the Stanley Mobile, and we go out for lunch? I think Greasy's has some new things on their menu," he jabbed a thumb towards Stan's old car.

"That sounds good! Better go ask Grunkle Stan for the keys!" she laughed and grabbed an armful of supplies, minding the cord as she moved out of the kitchen.

He nodded and moved briskly to the porch door, he had heard Dipper and Stan out there earlier. Opening the door he stared in horror as Dipper attempted to pick the lock on a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. "Oh hey Poindexter, how was craft time? You didn't let her touch the heat gun right?" Stanley took a swig of his Pitt Cola.

"What are you teaching Dipper?!" he could barely contain his rage.

"Lock-picking! So I can take back things Mabel takes from me and stashes in her closet," Dipper smiled as the cuffs came loose.

Ford stared at the pair in disbelief before shaking his head, "Stanley, I would like to borrow the car to bring Mabel into town for lunch."

Stan put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the keys, "Just don't scratch her, she's still my baby."

"I wouldn't dream of it Stanley," he reached for the keys.

His wrist was held in a vice-grip, "If anyone sees that bruise, you're a dead man," Stan's voice was a vicious whisper. Ford was taken aback, never had his brother's voice been so full of anger directed at him before.

"Of course, I'll be careful, thank you Stan," he ripped his hand out of his brother's grip. He returned into the house to let Mabel know they could leave any time. He glanced into the kitchen, all the supplies were gone. The table had been wiped down, the floor swept, the only proof of their art time was the two images and the heat gone resting on the table. His niece took his free hand and he jumped slightly before composing himself, "Ready my dear?"

"Onwards! To the food!" she raised her free hand pointing in no particular direction and they laughed as they headed to the car.

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So Ford and Mabel talked! And did Art! After lunch is it possible that they might do Science? Who knows! Stay tuned to find out! Love you all! Don't forget to R&R


	6. Lunch-Time

Hey guys. Sorry I've been inactive for a while. I've been sorting through some things, dealing with life, you know? So here is the next chapter and I'll try not to keep you guys waiting too long for the next one. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this.

As always I own nothing, Hirsch and Disney own it all.

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Mabel had deposited all her art supplies in her shared room with Dipper, dropping most of them onto her bed so the leads wouldn't break in her pencils. The two pictures she left on the table in the kitchen, Stan would make sure they didn't get damaged and they'd probably be in frames by the end of the day. Heading down the stairs, she grabbed a dustpan and broom, Stan wouldn't be mad if she left glitter everywhere, but she was trying to be better at keeping the craft supplies out of everyone else's food. Once back in the kitchen, she couldn't see Grunkle Ford, he was probably talking to Stan, trying to get the keys to the Stanley Mobile. She snickered at the name, the model was an El Diablo but he called it the Stanley Mobile.

She had to climb onto a chair to wipe off the table with a dry cloth, she also unplugged the heat gun, house safety was a must after all. She then proceeded to sweep the kitchen, making sure all the glitter was swept up off the floor and into the dustpan. Dropping the glitter into the waste bin, she moved down the hall to return the broom and dust pan to its proper place. When she returned Grunkle Ford was standing there waiting for her in the kitchen, she gently placed her hand into his larger six-fingered hand and she smiled up at him. He jumped slightly but returned her smile, "Ready my dear?"

"Onwards! To the food!" she raised her free hand pointing in no particular direction and it drew a laugh out of the man that she returned. Heading out past the two guys on the porch she snickered to herself, Ford just gave her a look. Once they were in the car, buckled in she laughed louder, "Dipper's so slow at lock picking!" She swung her feet with a glee filled face as she looked at Stan and Dipper through the window.

"You can pick locks?" her Grunkle's voice was definitely filled with disappointment but she shrugged it off.

"Yeah Stan taught me and I've only used it a handful of times. Like the time I set Sev'ral Timez free!" she smiled at the fond memory of the blond boy band.

"I'm not sure I follow," she watched his eyebrows tilt down slightly.

"It was a group of genetically modified and cloned boys to be the perfect boy band. Creggy G., Greggy C, Leggy P., Chubby Z, and Deep Chris. They were great," her eyes shifted out to the forest. "I hope they're enjoying their freedom in the forest."

"So let me get this straight," one set of six fingers drummed against the steering wheel as they pulled away from the Shack, "you broke in somewhere, and set a group of genetically modified creatures free into the woods. Are you sure they're safe?"

"Pfft, yeah they are. The worst they can do is dance aggressively at people," she laughed a little her eyes looking out the door window.

"Somehow that doesn't ease my worries," her Grunkle's frown could be heard in his voice.

"They're honestly harmless. One of them almost choked on a tape dispenser," she turned her brown gaze towards her elder. His face was impassive, no sign of his earlier frown as he listened, "Honestly it was harder to take care of them than it was to take care of Waddles."

An almost invisible twitch of his lips turned upwards for a moment, she almost didn't believe her eyes. "Well Waddles is still alive and somehow I can't see anything being harmful that almost choked on a tape dispenser so I'll believe you," his eyes never wandered from the road, but his voice was soft with some sort of emotion she couldn't clearly pick out. "I just ask that you try to be safe and not follow too closely in Stanley's footsteps. I don't want you to get banned from traveling, how else will you free all the other boy bands of the world," he let out a soft chuckle and Mabel couldn't help but laugh at the terrible joke.

"I will Grunkle Ford!" she turned her gaze back out toward the road to see the familiar sight of Greasy's Diner getting closer. It still looked like Lazy Susan was trying to take care of the place herself, but that's what gave it it's rustic charm! Her smile widened, "Ohhh! We're here, we're here, we're here!" She began to bounce in her seat and shimmy around until the car came to a full stop. It took her second to be out of the confines of the seatbelt and out into the gravel lot giggling with excitement.

Ford took slightly more time locking the car as he went, as he crunched through the gravel lot he held out a hand, Mabel gladly took it, "Excited?"

She nodded vigorously, "I love the greasy diner food! The atmosphere! Susan's bad sense of humor!" She looked up at her great uncle as he chuckled softly. It wasn't that her uncle never laughed or smiled, it just felt like they were too different, that she couldn't make him smile or laugh. Being wrong was pleasant, it left her feeling warm and happy.

"I will agree with you on the Susan part," he tried to school his face back into a neutral position, but was failing, the smile lighting up his eyes and the rest of his features.

The silence between them was amicable, warm even. It was so nice. Where Stan was a warm pillar of strength and support, Ford was more grounded and reassuring, even if he wasn't sure what he was doing he was confident he could help. They ended up seated in a booth, Susan bringing them menus. "What do you recommend? clearly you've been here for lunch more than I have recently," she glanced over her menu at her uncle.

"Well anything deep fried is usually good, I've been getting the club sandwich, but that could just be something you like with age," he gave her a lopsided grin.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying a good sandwich with bacon, mayo and turkey, unless you get this," Mabel pointed at the 'Cluck Cluck Club' on the menu. it was a sandwich with fried chicken fingers, cheese and bacon, no vegetables, no mention of a sauce.

"No, I would be afraid for the sake of anyone's heart and arteries if they go that sandwich," Ford chuckled softly. "So what do you think you're going to get my dear?"

"I think I'm just going to get the Greasy's Burger Platter, it sounds the least like greasy death, but still greasy enough, y'know?" Mabel smiled at her great uncle.

"Perfect, then that's what you'll get," even though their conversation petered out and her gaze turned out the window, it didn't feel awkward to do so. When a plate appeared in front of her with Susan's lopsided grin. Susan wandered off and Mabel eyed the plate in front of her. "You were lost in thought so I ordered for you. I hope you don't mind," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Thank you Grunkle Ford!" she flashed him a reassuring smile. They ate in complete silence, the soft murmur of the other patrons cocooning them in the soft atmosphere of the diner. Once Ford had paid for them and the table was cleared she gently took his hand as they went out to the car, "That was really good and nice, thank you again Grunkle Ford!"

His soft genuine smile was enough to know that he had enjoyed himself as well. Once they got back to the shack the other two males of the family were nowhere to be seen. Ford took her hand this time leading her through the shack and down into the lab in the basement. "Now I'm not a hundred percent sure what we're going to do down here. But I'm sure we can think of something," he gently squeezed her hand.

Mabel glanced around at all the flashing lights and machines, "Now that the portal is gone did you repurpose these machines?"

"Of course. I'm not going to let good machinery get scrapped for no reason," he huffed slightly.

She laughed at his response, he was such a goof, but he made plenty of sense, "I'm glad you could save lots of your hard work!"

He cleared his throat and looked around the lab quickly, "Well how about we make a self adhering glitter? For your crafts?"

Mabel could feel her eyes getting wide she nodded her head excitedly, "Yes! YES! That would be perfect!"

He chuckled softly and lifted her up onto his desk, "This is the boring part, but you'll have to bear with me, alright?" He pulled out some blank pieces of paper and pens. As he worked through the chemical formula on paper his voice rumbling softly through each step she couldn't help but smile. He was right, it was incredibly boring during the formula stage, but when he let her don a pair of safety goggles and gloves she wasn't about to complain at all.


End file.
